A couple weeks ago, I went to a mental health clinic for the first time. It was a discrete, brick building with tinted windows situated across the street from a large factory. It was tucked into the woods a bit with a view of the factory looming over the tree line. When I entered the building, I signed in and found a chair between the vending machine and the wall at the corner of the room and I made myself comfortable.
As I ruminated about what lead me there, I started to tear up. I was diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder about six years ago and about two years later I completely dominated those disorders. I had talked one of my best friends out of suicide. I had talked to several other people about how to deal with anxiety and depression and I had never felt so fulfilled and happy. I had a sense of indomitable optimism.
The anxiety came back more daunting and seemingly indomitable than before. My life was perfect. I had been married for a little over a year now, I was killing it at my job, and I had a 3.8 GPA. I won’t delve into what exactly triggered it right now, but I missed a week of school and work and now there I was sinking into a rabbit hole of despair.
I lifted my head for a moment and decided to observe the people in the room around me. Across for me was an obese man with lesions up and down his legs what appeared to be psoriasis. Diagonal to me was a teenage girl with scars on her arm along with her baggy-eyed mom who was applying on makeup. Over the next thirty minutes, I eavesdropped on conversations surrounding welfare case managers, court trials, divorce, drug addiction, and suicide.
Over the next couple weeks, I’ve gotten to personally know some of these people and they’re incredible. They’re empathetic, personable, and they elicited flashbacks from my sociology class. I remember professor explaining poverty and him saying,” The culture of poverty only explains 12% of poverty.” I started to think about if they were able to receive an extra $12,000 dollars a year, how much would their lives change?”
First let me preface this by saying, I’ve never wanted a businessman to run the country. I understand the trauma that accompanies the idea of voting for another one, but let us be honest with ourselves Andrew Yang and Donald Trump are anomalies, but they should never be associated with each other because the nature of their businesses were completely dissimilar in both conduct and purpose. Trump’s business left places in ruins like Atlantic City and Andrew Yang’s business helped make cities flourish. Trump’s business sued small businesses. Yang’s business helped create plans for small businesses to grow.
When I first discovered Andrew Yang back in February, I was intrigued by the idea of an Asian American running for president. I had a Taiwanese aunt who passed away due to cancer and Andrew sort of looked like he was part of my extended family. His Freedom Dividend idea was captivating particularly because I had such a difficult time dealing with welfare system and I knew I wasn’t the only one. That night I stayed up researching his seemingly innumerable amount of policies. Not only did each policy have quite a bit of breadth to it, but they came across as logical with some of them leaving me completely dumbfounded.
The idea that the word humanity was central to all of his proposals was the selling factor to me. The drug addicted need treatment, not prison time. The income floor needs to be raised and mothers and caregivers need to be recognized for the work that they do. The freedom dividend and Medicare for all give people a fighting chance. Andrew’s campaign provides the awareness that is lacking by most of other candidates besides Bernie Sanders.
His predictions about self-driving trucks and the reactions by truckers has proven prescient. Every day the looming threat of automation replacing jobs is only growing more and more apparent and the other candidates don’t have a mechanism in place to help soften the blow of the inevitable job displacement that good part of our population will experience.
As I looked around in that mental health clinic I saw a brief glimpse of what could be. I saw these people visiting mental health professionals at primary care because Yang has a plan on integrating mental health professionals into the greater healthcare system. I saw them looking healthier because they can afford to eat non-processed foods. I saw a greater sense of hope.
I work full-time, I go to school full-time, and I have a wife to support. I’m always exhausted and some days I come across as frail and anemic, but just imagining the relief of an extra $24,000 a year for my wife and I vitalizes me a little. As I picture what it would do for my best friend who’s a struggling artist, it would mean him and his long-time girlfriend can afford to get married. It would mean my in-laws could have more funds to start their own business and they’ll finally get the peace of mind they most definitely deserve. As someone who’s been discouraged, marginalized, and who’s been trying to bounce back, Andrew Yang’s campaign instills a hope and a fire in me like no other presidential candidate has been before and I’d like to urge you to see if he can do the same for you.